


Nobody Likes Unsolicited Dick Pics (Except When They Do)

by Blondie_Bluue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Americas Ass pinterest board, Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Dick Pics, Drunk Texting, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Lies By Omission, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Penis Art, Phone Sex, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Shrunkyclunks, Steve isn't shy, Tattooed Bucky Barnes, Texting, Tony Is a Good Bro, brock is a dick, he's concerned, maybe not healthy coping, pizza heathen, semi public masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blondie_Bluue/pseuds/Blondie_Bluue
Summary: When Bucky Barnes accidentally sends a dick pic to a wrong number while looking for a little action, he never expected to get a positive response.Feelings are caught, drama ensues, things work out in the end





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HERE IT IS!!
> 
> My contribution to the Shrunkyclunks Big Bang 2019. This is the second Big thing I've ever written, so please bear with me. 
> 
> It was supposed to be this cracky little thing that i was hoping i had enough words for to make it over the 5k minimum. At some point it grew feeling and found a bit of plot. i don't even know. 
> 
> I need to thank you amazing Lasenby_Heathcote. for the ridiculously awesome art they made. Go check them out 
> 
> So let's get this thing rolling!! There are 13 chapters plus and Epilogue and i have 4 days to post them all. EEP. so i think we'll post 3 or 4 chapters a day. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! i hope you enjoy!!

Steve is stretched out on his couch, drawing. Just another quiet, relaxing night at home. No aliens to fight, no robots to smash, not even a cat to rescue from a tree. It's nice, and boring. Steve tosses his pencil and sketch book onto the coffee table and lets out a frustrated sigh, unable to settle and focus on his art. The reprieve was nice for a few days, but now, now he's restless. He could go to the gym and destroy a few more heavy bags, but Tony had already threatened to destroy him if he doesn't keep under his equipment quota. So he just stands up and paces around the living room again. Checks the fridge, again. Gets a glass of water, again. 

As Steve is staring out his kitchen window at the New York skyline from 97 floors up, his phone pings. Not the Avengers Assemble tone he was vaguely hoping for, but the normal text tone that came as the default, since he didn't really care to change it. Steve picks up his phone and swipes in his code to view the message. When he opens it he comes face to face with… a penis. Admittedly, a very nice penis. Thick and long, just poking out of a pair of boxers. Steve's mouth waters a little. A line of text appears under the photo

Unknown #: Hey Brock, you busy tonight? I'm having a HARD time. 

Steve rereads the line a few times. Huh. 

He replies after a moment of thought.

Steve Rogers: Sorry. Not Brock.

A flurry of replies come back in a hurry after that

Unknown #: Oh shit, man  
Unknown #: I'm sooooooo sorry. The asshole must have given me the wrong number  
Unknown #: Sorry again, I know no one likes unsolicited dick-pics

While that is usually the truth, this is a very nice dick and Steve is quite bored. After staring at the picture on his phone for what is certainly too long, Steve has an idea. He picks up his abandoned pencil and sketchpad and settles back comfortably on the couch, slouched down with legs spread wide. While he doesn't really want actual pictures of his junk out in the world, he has no problem with tasteful artistic representations. Steve already has a half chub going just from the thought. He palms his half full penis and grinds the heel of his palm down its length before he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them and his briefs down his hips a bit, just enough that he can free his quickly hardening cock. A few more good strokes and a squeeze of his balls have him rigid and ready, the head a dusky pink and glistening from the bit of precum collecting at the tip. Steve takes a deep breath and has to remember why he is sitting here with his dick out in the first place. Another deep breath and slow stroke and he's ready to start sketching. 

About half an hour later Steve has a nice pencil representation of his hard-on and a handful of dirty tissues. He snaps a picture of the drawing and sends it off to the unknown number

Steve Rogers: image.jpg  
Steve Rogers: It's cool. Brock's loss, my gain. ;)

There's no reply that evening, but that's OK. Steve has a smile on his face for the rest of the night, and if he gets off one more time while imagining what the rest of the body attached to that pretty cock looks like, well, no one has to know. 

~*~

Bucky is laying on his bed, dick hanging out of his boxers, rapidly deflating, groaning into his hands. He just sent some poor sap a picture of his junk, and a lame pun. Today had already been a shitty day, what was one more thing to add to it. All he had wanted was to let off a bit of steam with a good fuck, or maybe even some phone sex. Not to assault some poor dude with photos of his dick. Oh god, can they arrest you for unsolicited dick pics?! Will he have to register as a sex offender?! 

After a few deep breaths, he realizes he's being ridiculous, but just to be sure, he does a bit of googling. About half an hour and zero helpful information later, his phone vibrates in his hand with an incoming message. The notification preview tells him it's an image from the wrong number he had texted. Bucky’s heartbeat stutters. No fucking way. 

When he opens the message and sees a spectacular drawing of an amazingly realistic penis, he begins to giggle just a bit hysterically. Well, at least the guy’s not going to report him to the cops. As he's taking a closer look at the image another message comes through, his eyes go wide. His gain, huh. Well then. While Bucky’s definitely not sure how to respond to that, his dick definitely does. Already standing at attention and ready for action since it was thwarted in its attempts just a short while ago. That's an easy fix. He grabs his cock with one hand and brings up the newly acquired NSFW drawing in the other. With a smirk growing on his face he gets to work.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s 2 am when Bucky comes stumbling into his apartment after celebrating his new promotion with friends at a local bar. A few drinks and just as many partners grinding against him on the dance floor later and Bucky is all riled up. He supposes he could have brought someone home with him, but the thought of having to deal with the morning after when he has to work the next day was not appealing. So instead he fumbles his way out of his clothes as he heads to the bedroom and falls back, face up, on the bed. After the room stops spinning, he takes a deep breath and runs his hands down his chest, across his abs and over the tops of his thighs, purposefully avoiding his thickening cock. After so many sweaty bodies pressed into one place and moving against each other Bucky knows he won't be able to sleep until he releases the pressure that's been building all night. He pats around on the bed to locate his phone. Opening up his camera app, he reaches down to grab his hard length with his left hand, one leg bent at the knee and falling to the side. He snaps a few photos then tries to review the images before he presses send, but who is he kidding, its all blurry, thanks alcohol. He's too far gone to even try to send a message to go with it, and honestly, its 2:30 am, the guy’s gotta know what's happening. He briefly wonders if this is a good idea then shrugs it off. The guy was obviously ok with the first picture and he actually kinda wants to see what the guy will draw this time. With that settled, Bucky rolls over and reaches for the water and aspirin bottles Sober Bucky was kind enough to leave for Drunk Bucky before he headed out for the night. Not even 15 mins later his phone goes off and yup, it's another sketch of that very pretty penis. This one is similar to his own, naked and in bed. Just a black and white pencil drawing but still, so perfect. Well, as far as Bucky's beer goggles can tell. After getting frustrated trying to make the image come into better focus he gives up.

“Fuck it,” he breathes and hits the little phone icon in the top of the message.

“Hello?” A gruff voice answers. He doesn't sound like he's been sleeping. His voice just low from the late hour.

That one word shoots electricity straight to his groin. He thought he was hard before, now he's aching. A bead of moisture forming at the head.

“Wow,” Bucky breathes. “Your voice is almost as good as your dick!”

The voice on the other end of the line chuckles.

“You seem to be having a good night, is there something I can help you with?"

“Well ya see,” Bucky slurs a bit. “I ‘ave these pretty peniseses on my screen, but I'm havin trouble seein ‘em. Thought maybe you could describe ‘em to me, help a buddy out”

A low groan comes through his phone speaker. Well alright then, this is happening. He takes a deep breath and pumps the hand around his cock once.

“Is that so?” The voice begins, Bucky just hums in the affirmative, continuing to slowly run his hands up and down his shaft. Truth be told, this guy could read the ingredients on the shampoo bottle and it would get him off, his voice is hitting him just right.

“You can't see how hard and thick it is? The vein running from root to tip? Should I tell you the tip is red and leaking?" Another, deeper moan makes its way from between Bucky's lips.

“I guess you should know about how my hand is wrapped tight around it. How its just a bit too thick for my fingers to touch. About me squeezing tight as I pull it up and then back down." The other man continues narrating his movements.

Bucky can hear the guy’s breath speed up, the sounds of the slick slide of skin against skin. He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

He is working himself over at a steady pace, eyes closed, free hand tugging at his hair. Another moan escapes him, he licks his lips. The telltale warmth spreading through his belly. Alcohol making him bold, he ventures:

“Sounds perfect, are you fingering yourself, baby? I bet you love having thick fingers work you open.” A sharp intake of breath on the other line lets him know how they feel about that.

“I think I would like yours the best,” they breathe out. "I bet I could take all of them.”

And that's it, he lets out a long, low groan as he spurts white, hot ropes of cum over his stomach.

A beat later he hears an accompanying moan and knows that they are following close behind. Bucky just lays sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling, cum cooling on his stomach. The silence in the room only broken by the panting on both sides of the phone line.

“Well, that was an experience,” comes the deep, sated, slightly slurred voice.

Bucky just hums his agreement, already half asleep. He really should clean himself up before he passes out. It's never fun to wake up and have to scrub dry cum off your body. But even with that knowledge he still can't manage to lever himself out of bed and into the shower.

Seconds from sleep, the phone forgotten, he hears a soft exhale and a whispered “Good night".

He wakes the next morning with a smile and a deep hatred of drunk Bucky's laziness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/Blondie_Bluue)  
> [tumblr](http://blondie-bluue.tumblr.com)  
>    
> and Lasenby at
> 
> [tumblr](https://lasenbyphoenix.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


	3. Chapter 3

It becomes a bit of a thing, sending each other dick pics. Not always of themselves, sometimes memes or gifs. 

One day, Bucky is out grocery shopping and decides to send off a picture of an eggplant next to his crotch. A few hours later he receives a message with a picture of a gigantic cucumber attached. Another day, it's a caricature of a penis with a hat, monocle and cane. Bucky responds with a picture of his dick wearing a folded paper hat and googly eyes.

After a few weeks, Steve has collected and created a nice collection of penises, he even has a few sketches stored and at the ready, just in case. Steve is in the middle of a preemptive drawing binge when he gets the message from Stark that he needs him and Sam to head down to the lab and check out a few equipment mods he's just finished. He meets Sam in the elevator where they try to guess what the man could have possibly come up with this time. 

The two are laughing about possible rocket launchers in Sam’s wings when they step into the lab. Steve stops in his tracks, there is a man that is not Tony bent over where Sam’s wings are spread out on the workbench. His brown hair is pulled back in a low bun, escaped tendrils falling to frame his face. He is chewing on his lower lip, now a bright, spit-slick red, deep in concentration. His torn, black skinny jeans are hugging his thighs and ass in the best way possible. The scuffed combat boots on his feet tap the floor in a steady rhythm. It's the tattoo that most captures his attention though; the tattoo that takes up his whole left arm, peeking out from under the sleeve of his grey V-neck. The tattoo that looks like metal plates, that starts at his wrist and Steve knows for a fact goes all the way over his shoulder onto his left pec. The same tattoo that he's been seeing in a majority of the dick pictures stored in his phone. Oh Shit. Tony comes around the corner just then, effectively halting the panic spiral his brain had began.

“Capsicle, Birdman, glad you could make it, we’ve got some fun toys to play with today. Boy Wonder over here had some great ideas so I let him make the modifications, now we’ve just got to make sure it's not going to explode. Buckarooni, you ready for this?” Tony rambles. Sam raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Explode?” He asks with trepidation. Bucky just blows out a breath and rolls his eyes

“Its fine, I know how to make tech whichfirst testing phase isn't 'will this explode?'” He shoots Tony a look, who just grunts and squints at the kid.

“That isn't the first phase, that's the FUN phase.” Tony claps his hands loudly and rubs them together. “Ok so, let's get you strapped in and these wings tested.”

  
  


Bucky formally introduces himself as they head down one more floor to the test lab. 

“Bucky? Really? Your parents named you that?” Sam asks, trying not to laugh outright. 

“It's more a nickname that stuck. Short for Buchanan, my middle name,” he explains, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, then looks at him with resigned eyes. “You'd want to be called anything other than James too if everyone else shared your name.” Sam tilts his head back in forth in reluctant agreement.

The giant open space is about three stories tall and as wide as half the building, with padded floors and walls for those 'just in case' moments. 

Sam sets about harnessing himself into his modified wings as Bucky starts to explain the new features. Tony and Steve lean against the far wall to watch. 

“Where did you find this kid?” Steve asks after a moment, trying for nonchalance. He's not quite sure he succeeded when Tony just takes a moment to study his face before answering.

“He was a senior engineer down in R&D. Apparently, he would go on about these ideas he had and why we weren't doing this or that with our gear. I guess someone got tired of hearing him bitch and suggested he just email me his ideas. He figured why not send off a lengthy explanation of his ideas along with some research and designs attached. JARVIS flagged it for me and I've got to admit, and you know I hate to do this, the kid’s good. Top notch, could be almost as good as me someday. So I figured I'd set him up in the lab to see what he can do. I'm holding off on final judgement to see if Wilson explodes, but chances are slim, so I think we'll keep him.” Tony smiles. “Kid’s got some snark in him, keeps me entertained. He also had some pretty good ideas about how to use pieces of the Iron Man suit for prosthetics. If he can make that work...” He trails off and shrugs.

Steve knows how Tony feels about all the people his weapons have hurt. How it eats at him inside. He just nods and turns his attention back to the test floor.

Finally, Sam is ready for his test flight. He takes off and swoops around the room, whooping as he does a few flips. A few test targets pop out of the walls and, what do you know, four tiny rocket launchers pop out of Sam’s shoulders. Sam continues to do barrel rolls and victory yells as he takes out the targets. Bucky is standing a few feet from Steve and Tony with a huge grin on his face as he watches.

In that moment Steve has an idea, the corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. He pulls out his phone and quickly sends off one of his saved drawings. A second later he sees Bucky twitch as the phone wedged into his front pocket vibrates. He pulls it out, looks at the notification then tilts the phone and his body away from Steve and Tony so they cant see whats on the screen. This new angle gives Steve a terrific view of his face as he licks his lips, then opens the image. He watches as Bucky take a closer look and then closes his eyes, tilts his head back and takes a deep breath. He rocks back and forth a few times and tries to discreetly adjust himself. Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from full-on smiling. A few more deep breaths and an adjustment later, he watches Bucky tap out a reply. Steve's already set his phone to silent and tilts the screen up to see his reply

**🍆🍆🍆: I’m at work you asshole, now I'm trying to hide my hard-on from my boss. You'll just have to wait till my lunch break for yours.**

Steve smiles and puts his phone away. He turns to Tony and suggests they leave the boys with the wings and go back to the lab so Tony can show him his new toys. As they're heading back to the elevator, Steve takes one last look over his shoulder to catch Bucky taking in the view. He raises his eyebrows in question as Bucky blushes and turns back to Sam. A little flutter does a dance in Steve's stomach, he is so fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/Blondie_Bluue)  
> [tumblr](http://blondie-bluue.tumblr.com)  
>    
> and Lasenby at
> 
> [tumblr](https://lasenbyphoenix.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


	4. Chapter 4

Steve has always used sketching as stress relief, as something to help him clear his mind when there is too much floating around in his head. Usually, it's the New York skyline from the tower windows, portraits of his friends and strangers he see down in the Tower's lobby cafe. Lately, however, it's been lips, grey eyes, flowing brown hair, either left down and framinga strong, stubbled jaw or pulled back into a messy bun, escaped whisps falling softly against sharp cheekbones. 

He has also been drawing dicks, LOTS of dicks. He has a whole hidden folder on his phone with just sketches of his dick, ready and waiting to be sent off. Steve has found a smug satisfaction in sending them to Bucky when they're in the same room. Seeing the other man's reaction when he opens his messages is an experience that never gets old, especially if he's distracted or not expecting it. When the brunet is engaged in his work and absently tugs his phone out of his back pocket after it dings its notification, dragging his eyes away from his desk to glance at the screen. Steve can see the moment it registers, a sharp intake of breath, lower lip caught between teeth, trying to discreetly adjust his growing boner. Oh yes, Steve lives for these moments, where if he's close enough he can see Bucky's pupils start to dilate. He knows it's a little unfair to be doing this to him at work, but it's not as if Bucky doesn't send them to him at awkward times as well. Just yesterday he was in a meeting with Fury and the team sifting through the latest intel on the AIM cell that's been causing trouble around the city. They had been poring over a shipping manifest from Latvia when his phone buzzed. Sometimes it still surprises him how well he's adapted to how essential the little communicator has become in this new world, how ingrained in everyday life it has become. How when the little chimes go off, people just automatically reach for it to see what it has to tell them now. As he swipes his thumb over the sensor to unlock it, he looks down and almost groans at what he sees. Bucky's cock, long and hard and flushed, his left hand gripping the base. Then the hand starts to move and Steve realizes its a video. It's just a short clip, a few strokes and then white ropes of cum are spurting out over his fingers and the hard planes of his lower abdomen. When he looks up his team is looking at him and Fury is doing his best to glare him to death with his good eye. 

“Something you want to share with the team, Rogers?” He growls. The man is not amused by Steve’s inattention, so he clears his throat, 

“No Sir,” he manages to get out, his blush deepening as he wills his dick to calm down, and tries to pay attention for the rest of the meeting

~*~

Bucky is smiling down at his phone again, angled so that only he can see it. He takes a deep breath and tries not to squirm too much on the stool that he is perched on at his work bench. His cheeks are pink and his breathing just a little heavy, completely absorbed in what his tiny screen is showing him

Tony, across the room, is leaning against his work table as he observes the other man, idly tapping a screw driver against his chin. This isn't the first time Tony has caught the other man engrossed in whatever is on his phone, and now he is intrigued. He wants to know what has Bucky all riled up almost on a daily basis. He's nosey, he knows this, Pepper is constantly telling him this, the team mentions it on an almost daily basis, it's not a secret. Still, he has to at least try to find out.

“So, Buckster,” he begins and Bucky jumps a little at the sudden sound, quickly locking the screen of his phone. “You seem to be extra happy recently, that little screen got something fun on it? Cuz ya know, sharing is caring, and I thought you cared about me a whole lot. I do share this whole lab with you, ya know, wouldn't mind a little reciprocity.” Tony looks at him pointedly, waving the screwdriver around absentmindedly, while Bucky turns bright red and looks for any excuse to not show Tony his phone. His eyes dart around the room, trying to find somewhere to land, anywhere but on Tony. The older man just waits before he opens his mouth to hound Bucky further, but before he can get a word out, Steve steps out of the elevator and into the lab. Looking around he spots the brunet at his desk and heads over, the smile growing on his face the closer he gets.

“Hey, Buck, you ready for lunch?” He asks, ignoring Tony's suspicious gaze. Bucky jumps up from his stool and shoves his phone in his back pocket before grabbing his leather jacket.

“Since when do you two go to lunch? And why was I not invited?” Tony pouts. Steve just rolls his eyes at the man’s dramatics and Bucky answers before Steve can.

“Since last week and because you would insist on shawarma, AGAIN. Besides,” he continues. “You've got that quantum drive I know you want to finish before Scott gets back and starts bugging you about it.” With that he turns to the blonde and starts to push him towards the elevator, trying to keep his mind off how firm the muscles beneath his hands are. He's got enough hard things to keep his mind busy into the next century, he doesn't need to add Captain America's ridiculous shoulders to the mix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/Blondie_Bluue)  
> [tumblr](http://blondie-bluue.tumblr.com)  
>    
> and Lasenby at
> 
> [tumblr](https://lasenbyphoenix.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky flops down on his living room couch, sweaty from his morning run. He gulps the last of his water from the bottle and turns on the TV. The newscaster that appears on the screen is detailing the latest details of the Avengers fight that happened sometime in the wee hours of the morning on the other side of the world. Bucky's not particularly interested in the facts, it's usually some version of the same thing, evil robots/aliens/science projects gone bad attack some poor city. Some combination of the Avengers show up, create more damage, subdue the baddie and head home. All Bucky really cares about is that they all get home safe and if the news cameras got any good shots of Captain America's ass. THAT is the real American dream right there. The two firm, plump globes in those scandalously tight uniform pants. Bucky doesn't know who designed that uniform, but he would really like to send them a fruit basket in thanks. 

As a tight shot of Cap from behind, hurling his oversized metal frisbee at one of the three giant robots attacking the city appears on screen, Bucky lets out a long appreciative groan and feels a good portion of the blood in his body rush south. He adjusts himself in his sweatpants and gets more comfortable, laying down on the couch. He knows he should feel a little wrong lusting after the guy, they do work together on a semi-regular basis now.

While he's thinking this, another shot of Cap catching his shield on the rebound comes on the screen. The blue clad figure ducking down behind thretal disk and just narrowly avoiding the rocket launched in his direction. The crouching position pulls the mans pants snug over his rear. The sight disintegrates any and all resolve Bucky might have been holding on to. He decides that his morning run has earned him a bit of fun.

Dick ready and raring to go, he tucks the waistband of his joggers under his balls and gives it a few good strokes. He looks down the length of his chest to where his hand is working himself over and thinks what a pretty picture it makes, he smirks at the thought and manages to pry his hand away from his cock as he lifts his phone over his head in order to get a full body shot. He bites his lip and places his right hand on his hip to help his dick stand straight up, then snaps the shot. After a moment scrutinizing the image to make sure everything is perfect, he sends it off and turns back to the TV. The news lady is back on, and a tiny picture of the harassed-looking Avengers is in the corner of the screen. Another crisis averted it seems. Bucky shrugs and pulls up his Captain America pinterest board. Plenty of butt shots on there to help finish off what he started. Finding his favorite. he grabs hold of his cock once more and begins to stroke just the way he likes, tight and slow. A warm feeling gathering low until he's just on the edge, then speeding up, until he’s spurting ropes of white, salty cum all over his abs. 

He grimaces looking down at the mess he’s made. Well, at least he already needed a shower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve is sprawled out in a worn-out armchair of the safehouse they are currently staying in when his phone’s text tone goes off. A smile spreads across his face without even having to look at who it is. Everyone who would text him is already here, so it can only be one other person. Steve angles himself in his chair so that the others can’t see what’s on his screen, though it doesn’t really matter, if Nat was curious, she’d find a way to figure it out. He's not totally convinced she doesn’t read minds, or just has a way to telepathically tap into electronic devices. Tony would just walk up and take the phone out of his hand or failing that, would just have JARVIS tell him what's on the screen. Wanda actually could read his mind but he knows she would never do that to him…..well, pretty sure anyways. 

After adjusting his position, he opens the message and sucks in a breath when he sees what's on the screen. As he thought, another beautiful picture, a full body shot. It's those lips up in the top of the frame that always get him, all red from biting, all Steve can think about is how they'll look wrapped around his dick. He tries to discreetly adjust himself, and a message comes through.

🍆🍆🍆: Thought you might enjoy a little something.  
🍆🍆🍆: treat.jpg

A treat indeed. The longer Steve looks at the picture the harder it is to keep his growing arousal discreet. Making a decision he stands and heads towards the restroom. As he passes Natasha, she lifts an eyebrow at him. 

He resolutely ignores her and continues to lock the bathroom door and perch on the edge of the tub. After a few more moments of studying the tiny screen he takes a deep breath and looks around, realizing that he doesn't have any form of paper or writing utensil. He frowns down at his screen, guessing that now was a good time as any to test out the drawing app and stylus on his Stark phone. Tony was so excited when he presented it to him. Steve’s propensity to sketch on any available scrap paper with anything that would leave a mark apparently driving him to add these features into the next version of his phone line. 

Looking around, he settles on arranging himself inside the tub, opening the fly of his uniform pants and pulling his already leaking cock out. The best part about drawing his penis instead of taking a picture is that he can omit certain aspects. Obviously, his dick hanging out of his blue pants with bright red boots on would be easily recognizable. Steve shudders at the thought of the press conference that would have to be held after that. He's seen Pepper doing damage control on Tonys exploits. Her “I am disappointed in you” face rivals his. He definitely does not want to be on the receiving end of that. After his sketch is done, and it looks pretty good for his first try at this digital drawing, he attaches it to a message and presses send. 

Steve Rogers: Well, that certainly is a treat. You earned yourself one as well. ;)  
Steve Rogers: Sketch.jpg

Some time later, Steve is lying in the tub, cum cooling in his hand when Clint bangs on the door

“Man, you better not be taking the world’s longest dump in there. I really gotta go and I don't want to be holding my breath.”

Steve chuckles and wills his heartbeat to slow down, ensuring Clint he’ll be out in a minute and he won't have to hold his breath. When he emerges from the bathroom looking less ‘Recently Fucked’ and cleaned up, Natasha still has that eyebrow up. They stare at each other for a minute before Steve looks away and goes to get himself some water. Maybe she has super hearing too and could hear what was happening behind the closed door. Maybe he's just being paranoid. Steve sighs and heads back to his seat, and plops down, a little boneless thanks to his release, and notices Tony squinting at him, wheels turning in his head. Steve squirms a little in his chair, trying not to look like he's been caught doing something illicit. Tony just stares at him a minute longer, then goes back to his tablet. Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Steve does the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/Blondie_Bluue)  
> [tumblr](http://blondie-bluue.tumblr.com)  
>    
> and Lasenby at
> 
> [tumblr](https://lasenbyphoenix.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky is riding the elevator from his floor on the lower residential levels up to Steve’s on the 97th. The fact that he even lives in Manhattan now, let alone the Avengers Tower, is still unreal. He thought he would be stuck in his shitty Brooklyn walkup until he was old and grey, his ten cats eating his face after he died in front of the TV. So when Tony had offered him the space after finding him asleep on the lab couch for the third time that week after four months of similar occurrences, he couldn't believe it. It made sense though, he spent most of his time in the lab and the commute was time consuming and daunting after a long day when he'd have to be back in a few hours to start over anyway. 

Now with his own place here in the Tower, just a short elevator ride from the lab, the café downstairs and Steve's apartment, all he had to do was roll out of bed, throw some clothes on and start the day. What is his life? After a few minutes of quiet reverie the elevator slows and JARVIS let's him know he has arrived. The doors open to reveal a plush, opulent living space, the open floor plan decorated in light greys and navy blues, bits of Steve to be found in the artwork on the walls and the shield leaning against the entryway table, piled with mail, keys and other pocket findings. Bucky moves further into the apartment, heading toward the kitchen where he can hear someone moving about. 

Steve is leaning over the counter, poking through the stack of pizza boxes and stealing toppings off of each. His head snaps up with a guilty look on his face when he hears Bucky walk in. 

"You better not he eating my pineapple, pal," Bucky scolds, folding his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow.  
Steve makes a disgusted face and replies:  
"You can keep your gross pineapple, you pizza heathen." Then pretends to gag as he closes the lid on the BBQ chicken pizza he was currently denuding.

"Ok, Mr. Meat lovers with extra sausage," Bucky scoffs, a smirk playing across his lips.

"I happen to like sausage, thank you very much," Steve mutters under his breath as he turns towards the fridge to grab two beers which he effortlessly pops the tops off of without the help of a bottle opener.

“Show off.” Bucky just rolls his eyes but accepts the drink and takes a long pull as he leans his hip against the counter. He watches Steve’s throat bob as he does the same. 

They gather their plates of pizza and bottles of beer and head to the living room to turn on the game. This had become something of a ritual for them, to watch whatever baseball game was on and get overly excited while they ate too much take out, yelling at the umpires terrible calls and bad plays made by both teams. Steve stalwartly refused to pick either the Mets or the Yankees as his favorite, instead preferring to gripe about them both and how the Dodgers were traitors. Bucky didn't really have a team preference, he barely understood the game. 

The best part of watching baseball was watching Steve get all worked up. He liked to watch how the pink would spread across his cheeks as he yelled at the shortstop for a botched throw to first, or how the wide smile spread across his face when the runner was thrown out at home. It wasn't so much watching the game as it was experiencing Steve’s joy. Bucky didn't think the man smiled enough, always walking around the tower with his “Captain America Is A Serious Guy” face on, looking properly dour while he strode through the halls. Only when he was in his own apartment or in the Avenger common area, did he actually let himself relax.

After drinking a few beers and decimating most of the pizza the game is almost over with the score tied and two outs. If the team at bat can score one more run, that's it, they win and advance to the playoffs. Both men are hunched forward on the edge of the couch cushion with their eyes glued to the screen. They may not be invested in either team but this has been a tight, tense game so they have been engrossed. 

The pitcher lets loose a fastball and with a crack of the bat the batter is off, running full speed for first base. The ball has been jettisoned out to left field where it bounces off the wall, the other team’s player picking it up and throwing it back to his cutoff man as the runner rounds second, well on his way to third. The cutoff man turns and blasts the ball into home just as the runner is sliding across home plate. The crowd goes wild, letting out a raucous roar. 

Back in the Tower the two men jump to their feet, yelling and high fiving, a fair bit of jumping around and shouting: “Did you see that?!” 

In all the commotion Bucky knocks into the coffee table hard enough to send a few of Steve’s sketch pads to the floor. He bends down to pick them up, still trying to catch his breath and slow his pulse after that jolt of adrenaline. His face red and still smiling he reaches for one of the pads that had fallen open when it hit the ground. As he picks it up, he happens to catch a glimpse of the drawing on the page the book had fallen open to. The image on the page was a beautifully rendered penis. Strong thighs flanking it on either side, a trail of liquid drops spread across the lower abdomen. The color drained from Bucky's face as he stared down at the book in his hands. He knew this picture. It was currently in a hidden folder on his phone, having just received it last week via text message from his Penis Portraits mystery number. Bucky looks over at Steve who is still staring at the screen, hands on top of his head as he smiles at the players jumping all over each other, celebrating on the field. Still smiling, Steve turns toward Bucky, face turning to one of concern when he sees his pale and pained look.

“Buck, are you ok?” He asks, troubled. That's when he looks down to see what the other man is holding. His own color draining out of his face. “Bucky, I can explain,” he begins.

Bucky just drops the book and starts to back away.

He shakes his head, hand covering his mouth as he turns away, taking a moment to figure out what to even say.

“You KNEW, you knew it was me. How could you not?” He asks as he waves his tattooed arm around. “You knew and you didn't say anything. You just kept sending pictures and accepting mine.” Anger welled up in his chest. “You sent them while we were in the same ROOM!” His voice was getting louder as Steve just stares at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tries to think of something to say. He couldn't deny it, the truth was that he did know and he didn't say anything. A look of realization crosses Bucky's face.

“Tony kept asking what was on my phone.” His eyes snap to Steve's face. “Was he in on this? Was this a GAME?!"

“NO!” Steve immediately takes a step towards him. “No one knew about this but me. I’m so sorry, I should have told you I knew. I just didn't know how.” Bucky cuts him off.

“You didn't know how? How about saying ‘Hey, Bucky, that's a nice penis you have there, thanks for the pictures’. Or I don't know, how about even sending a text telling me we should stop. It’s been MONTHS Steve. Months that you've been LYING to me.”

Steve makes a wounded noise and takes another step forward, but Bucky just turns away and heads for the elevator, the doors opening as he approaches. Steve reaches him just in time to put a hand on his shoulder 

“Bucky, please,” he begins but the other man just shrugs him off and steps into the waiting elevator carriage, he turns and, voice hardening, says:

“Don't touch me, as a matter of fact, don't call me, don't text me, just stay away from me. I don't want to have anything to do with you.” With that the doors close and tears slip silently down his face. He manages to make it into his apartment before he crumples against the door and slides to the floor where he lets all his feelings out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
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	7. chapter 7

Steve had stood, still as a statue, staring at the closed elevator doors. The minutes had passed slowly, the air having grown syrupy thick, making it hard to breath. He isn't sure how long he had stood there, unseeing, before finally heading back to the couch where the sketch book was lying open on the floor where Buckky had dropped it. The page was open to a drawing of his dick, hand holding the base with his right leg pulled up and laying out to the side. 

Angry at it and himself, he had kicked the book as hard as he could, the pages fluttering madly as it skittered across the floor to land somewhere on the other side of the room. He couldn't stand seeing the evidence of his mistake. He knew he should have told Bucky sooner. He should have told him he was the one messaging him, but he had been afraid of Bucky's reaction. That Bucky wouldn't want to message him anymore or think that he was a freak. That he would be mad that he hadn't said anything in the first place. He had been a coward and look where that had gotten him.

The TV was still playing, the sportscasters dissecting the good and bad plays, interviewing the players. A reminder of the hours before his world had come to a screeching halt. 

Now, twelve hours and not a wink of sleep later, he's sitting on his couch staring at his phone. The screen is open to his and Bucky’s text thread, all of the messages he sent since the night before have “Not Delivered” errors. He has been trying to apologize, to explain just why he didn't say anything sooner, but it seems that Bucky just doesn't want to hear it.

As he stares at the flashing cursor on his phone screen, trying to decide if he should try again, when JARVIS makes the quiet static noise that is the electronic equivalent of clearing his throat.

Softly, the AI speaks:  
"Captain, I feel I should inform you that Mr. Barnes has asked me to block all communications from you." 

Steves stomach fills with lead. Bucky has cut him off, well and truly. 

"Oh," he says, barely a whisper. He clears his throat and tries again: "Can ...can you just let him know I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep this from him.” 

"I can attempt to relay that message to Mr. Barnes, if you like. If he chooses not to accept it, I can store it in case he changes his mind at a later date," comes the reply

Steve takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. That will have to do, he can't force the AI to play Bucky a message he has no interest in hearing. No matter how much he wants to tell Bucky that he knows he fucked up and ask for him to forgive him. To let them try again and start over.

“Thank you JARVIS,” he responds, head tilted towards the ceiling. 

“My pleasure, Captain. Maybe you would like to visit the gym. I can cue up your Angry Punching playlist of you like.”

Steve sighs, apparently Tony had gotten bored and renamed his playlists again. Which is better than changing his ringtones to Baby Got Back or the Star Spangled Banner. Although he was pretty amused when he had changed his message tone to ‘AMERICA FUCK YEAH’. Not that he would admit that to anyone, especially Tony. 

Steve lets out a long breath and drops his head back down before replying:  
“Yeah JARVIS, that sounds like a good idea.” With that he stands up, takes a deep breath in and after slowly letting it back out, heads to his bedroom to change into his workout clothes. 

Going at the heavy bag usually helps him work out his anger or frustration with things out of his control. Letting loose on the bags made specifically to handle a super soldiers strength helps him get into a meditative state. He can just let go and use all the power he has and not worry about hurting anyone, just letting his thoughts narrow down to the feeling of his hands making contact with the bag. The slight give of the reinforced fabric, the solid THUMP of each impact. Even the ache in his bones that will soon fade and the small cuts on his knuckles when he goes particularly hard are a feeling he's come to relish. They mean he is still alive and here, that no matter the bullshit he is trying to deal with, he is still able to fight another day and protect those that need him

Thats where Sam finds him, after having spent the better part of two hours beating his fist against the bag until his knuckles are just starting to bleed through the wraps and he's covered in sweat. The workout really hasn't done much to help calm or tamped down the emotions swirling inside of him. He's still angry and frustrated and just overwhelmingly lost. 

Sam watches as Steve steps back and wipes the sweat from his face with the bottom of his shirt, which really doesn't do much good since he had sweat through the thing about forty-five minutes ago. Shaking his head, he just peels it off then twists it into a ball and hurls it toward the wall with a giant roar, startling when Sam speaks, an unimpressed inflection in the words:

“Bad day?” He questions. He didn't know the details or really any reason why his friend should be this worked up. All he knew was that JARVIS had let him know that maybe Steve needed someone to talk to. Apparently Sam was That Guy. 

Steve just sets his jaw and begins to unwrap the tape from his hands. After a few minutes of saying nothing, just examining the broken skin on his hands, he finally sighs and looks up.

“To make a long story short, I've been exchanging pictures of dicks with this random guy.” Sam snorts but motions for Steve to go on when he glares at him. “Then when I found out I actually knew him, I didn't say anything and I know I SHOULD have, but I didn't know how he would react when he found out it was ME he was sending them to. So I didn't say anything, just kept at it.” Frustrated, Steve pushes his hair back from his forehead, the cuts on his knuckles already having closed up to halfway healed. “Sam, I think I really like this guy, but last night he found out I knew and was just so angry. He stormed out and blocked my number, i can't even apologize now.” Helpless, he lets his hands fall from his head down to his sides then looks at Sam with those puppy dog eyes. “I don't know what to do Sam, where do I go from here?”

Sam, arms crossed over his chest, glances at the ceiling and takes a deep breath before looking at his distressed friend and letting it out in one big huff

“Man, you just have to leave him alone so he can figure out how he feels. He's probably really torn up and confused right now. You did keep some pretty important information from him and now he has to decide if he can trust you again. I know it is going to hurt, but you need to give him his distance until he can figure out how and if he even wants to move forward. Im sorry, I wish I had better advice but that’s all you can do right now.” Sam watches his friend’s shoulders fall as he moves forward to put a hand on one. Sam ducks down to look into Steve’s eyes

“It’ll be ok, we just need to keep you occupied, all right?” Sam looks at the watch on his wrist and heaves a beleaguered sigh. “It's pretty much time for us to go running anyway, man. How about we head over to Central Park and you can lap me a few hundred times, that always cheers you up.” He gives the overgrown puppy of a man across from him a slap on the shoulder.

"I won't even complain about your terrible comments as you pass by.” At this Steve produces a small smile. 

“Can we go to the coffee shop with those blueberry muffins after?” He asks, his voice small but hopeful. Sam just rolls his eyes and turns toward the door.

“Yeah man, we’ll go get coffee and those muffins. Maybe I'll even spring for that lemon loaf with the icing while we’re at it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
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	8. Chapter 8

A few days and as many long nights have passed when Bucky hears the alarms go off while he’s in the lab trying to focus on his current project. The neural interface for the prosthesis he was working on is spread out on the bench in front of him. Not that he's actually been able to concentrate. Mostly he's been staring at the circuitry, tool in hand until Tony pipes up to ask him a question or tease him about being so spacey. Normally, he would have run up to the roof to check on the teams equipment and weapons to make sure all of his components were ready and in working order, but mostly it was an excuse to see Steve off. To tell him to stay safe and come home in one piece. The same was true when they came back if he was at the tower. Assuring himself that Steve was safe and mostly unharmed while pretending to check if there was any damage to Sam’s wings or Nat’s Widow Bites. 

But today, when he caught himself rising from his stool, he forced himself to sit back down and tried to ignore his worry by reminding himself that he was still mad at the man. That Steve had lied to his face and led him on. He didn't think that Steve had done it as a joke, as something to laugh about with the other Avengers, he wasn't that kind of an asshole. But what reason could he have had to not say anything as soon as he knew? They had obvious chemistry, Bucky had already fallen half in love with the guy after months of teasing and movie or ball game nights. So many slices of pizza and Thai takeout were consumed after he returned from missions or kept Bucky company in the lab as he worked late. How could he just have gone on kept that information to himself and sending those drawings, letting Bucky send him pictures of his cock. Bucky had even started to debate if he should tell Mr. Pretty Penis Pictures that they needed to stop. It wouldn't be fair to Steve to keep up the exchange. He huffs out a bitter laugh. 

He had spent most of the night and the whole next day after finding out alternating between crying and raging. Just ruminating on the new information and stewing in his own thoughts, spiraling down until Natasha had appeared to help him get his shit together and continue on adulting. He wouldn't let this affect his life. They say that the best revenge is to live your best life in spite of others, right? 

Eventually, Tony, who had been sidelined due to a concussion he was still healing from, looked up from his own work across the room. He looks over the top of his magnifying glasses at Bucky.

“What, no smiles for your phone today, Buckaroonie?” He teases. 

Bucky just glares at the other man for a moment and debates if he should just ignore him or throw his soldering iron at the guy. He finally settles on telling him the truth. 

Ever since he moved into the Tower he really never has a reason to leave. He's either working in the lab or hanging out with one of the other tower residents. He's never had that many friends but now it seems that the ones he's become closest to are all here.

As much as he likes to complain about Tony, the guy is genuinely good. He may tease and harass everyone, but he really does care. The guy may not know how to show it in a traditional sense, usually throwing money and expensive, personally designed and produced gear at people instead of actual, real life emotions, but once you figured out his language of love is over-gifting, you can't help but get attached to the man. 

A couple deep breaths and a prayer to any god that may be listening later, he tells Tony what’s got him so worked up. Tony is actually quiet for once, the teasing smirk falling off his face and his lips flattening into a grim line, his eyebrows coming together in a look of ire. 

“I just,” Bucky trails off after he has finished relaying all the gritty details. “I just don't know why he didn't tell me.” He looks down at his hands which are clasped together in his lap, knuckles turning white. He told himself he wouldn't cry again after that first night but the tears are threatening to fall now. 

He looks up, startled, when he feels hands on his shoulders. Tony's eyes have turned hard and when he speaks Bucky can hear the steel in his voice.

“I don't know what Cap's issue is or why he didn't tell you, but what I do know is that you are an amazing person who doesn't deserve to be yanked around. You hear me? You is smart, you is funny and you is kind.” Bucky blinks up at the man. 

“Did...did you just quote “The Help” at me?” He lets out a watery laugh.

“Hey, it's good advice. You think I come up with all this wisdom on my own? I mean, yeah most of it. I am a genius after all, and a pretty awesome person if I do say so myself. Doesn't mean a person can’t glean a few things here and there.” 

Now Bucky's smile has grown a bit more and is shaking his head at the other man.

“Now, did you want to blow up some of these Captain America action figures I've got stashed over here as part of my anger management program? We can always call it research if we use the new exploding rounds i've been working on.” 

With a full-bodied laugh and a real smile now, Bucky shakes his head fondly at the older man.

“Yeah, why not. All in the name of science and research right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/Blondie_Bluue)  
> [tumblr](http://blondie-bluue.tumblr.com)  
>    
> and Lasenby at
> 
> [tumblr](https://lasenbyphoenix.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


	9. Chapter 9

A week passes, a LONG week. A week where Steve does everything in his power to keep busy and give Bucky his space. Extra missions, training the new baby SHIELD agents, busting and repairing his punching bags. Sam has started to beg off on the extra laps during their runs. Instead choosing to fetch breakfast for the two of them, usually returning by the time Steve starts to wind down. 

Now, after a week that has been pure torture, he cant handle it anymore. He knows that Bucky hasn't listened to the messages he's sent, all seven of them. He had at least been able to control himself a little, limiting his emotional ramblings and heartfelt apologies to once a day. Today though, he just can't deal with the thoughts in his head and the urgency with which he needs to let them spill out.

He steps into the elevator from the floor and asks JARVIS to take him to the lab.

“I’m sorry, Captain, I’m afraid I cannot do that,” the AI informs him. 

“Well, why the hell not?” Baffled, Steve looks up to the ceiling where the disembodied voice floats down from. He has unlimited access to the tower and has never been banned from the labs. Well, to be fair, maybe once or twice when he had managed to piss Tony off enough. Those banishments usually came from Tony himself, along with a barrage of choice words and phrases. 

“Mr. Barnes has asked that I restrict access to the area he is currently occupying in addition to intercepting all communication attempts.” Somehow JARVIS has managed to sound apologetic.

“Oh,” is all he can manage to say. He has to swallow a few times to get rid of the lump in his throat. It takes a minute for him to make a decision, he straightens his shoulders, raises his chin and sets his jaw. “Ok, JARVIS, please take me to Bruce's lab.” 

The elevator begins to descend and Steve runs over the plan in his head. He doesn't really want to see Bruce. It’s just that his lab happens to be in the floor above Tony’s. He doesn't need to stop ON Tonys floor, he just needs to be CLOSE. The doors open and Steve casually steps out, takes a slow look around and then bolts for the stairwell door. The door slams open with maximum force, bouncing off the wall and back at Steve. He pays it no mind as he throws himself down the stairs, taking them three at a time. When he bursts through the door leading into the lower floor, Tony is standing there waiting for him, arms crossed, a stormy look on his face.

“Now Rogers, I know JARVIS told you that you're restricted from my lab right now, and yet, here you are: in my lab. From which you are currently restricted, as in NOT ALLOWED TO BE HERE. Do I need to put a sign up on all the doors ‘STEVE ROGERS, KEEP OUT’. Oh wait, I know, a poster “If you see this man, your picture here, tell him to stay the fuck out of my lab”. The older man’s face has now crossed over to straight angry. The scowl currently occupying the man's lips makes it clear how not happy he is to see Steve.

“I just wanted to talk to Bucky,” Steve huffs out, slightly out of breath from his all out rush down the stairs, not to mention breaking through two doors. He tries to look over Tony's shoulder into the lab behind the other man, trying to catch a glimpse of his target. All he can manage to make out is two workbenches strewn with a variety of mechanical parts Steve couldn't even begin to name. The stool in front of the bench with what looks like a metal hand on it knocked over on the floor. “I just thought if I could-”

Tony cuts him off by holding up a hand. 

“He doesn't want to see you right now, Rogers. I'm fairly certain he's told you this, that JARVIS has told you this. Now I’M TELLING YOU THIS.” He takes a moment to breathe, then continues on: “You fucked him over, Rogers. The kid is hurting, you did that to him. He was happy, between those texts from his mystery dick and the time you two were spending together he was walking on clouds. Now he doesn't have either of these things. You took them away from him, you lied.” Steve opened his mouth to interject “YOU. LIED. By not telling him as soon as you knew and keeping up with the penis extravaganza You were lying to him. He’s trying to process that the guy he was crushing hardcore on was keeping a pretty major secret from him. Something he had every right to know about. So here's the deal. You're going to turn around and walk your butt back up the stairs, ALLLLLL the way back to your floor, I'm going to tell JARVIS not to open the elevator for you, so maybe by the time you get there your glutes will get to feel a modicum of what a pain in the ass you are to me. THEN, you will not try another little stunt like this again. Leave the boy alone until he's ready to talk to you. IF he's ever ready. Do you understand? Is this sinking in? I find out you try and harass the kid again, and this is harassment, and I don't care that you are Captain America, I will test that super soldier healing factor.” 

Tony, chest heaving a little, is staring daggers at him now. He lifts his hand, finger pointing at the ground and twirling a circle in the air. Steve just stands there, a littlel dumb struck before nodding and slowing spinning to head out, feet dragging. 

“STAIRS!” Tony calls after him and the chastised man turns towards the broken door he had busted through earlier.

After Steve has gone, Bucky pokes his head out of the back room to check that the coast is clear. With a big sigh, he hangs his head and slowly makes his way out into the lab.

“Thanks Tony, I'm not ready to face him just yet,” he says in a low, defeated voice.

“No worries kiddo.” Tony claps him on the shoulder then clears his throat and heads back over to his workbench. “I got your back.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a month. An entire month since Steve tried to come to the lab and see Bucky. An entire month of asking JARVIS to help him avoid Steve. An entire month of broken sleep and fits of insomnia. An entire month of practically living in the lab and working non-stop. 

This probably isn't the best way to deal with the emotions burning through him. The constant replay of interactions between him and Steve while he looks for all the signs he should have picked up on. Trying to see if he could pinpoint the moments he should have known Steve was keeping things from him. 

So he figures if he’s focused on his work and getting the prototypes finished, then he’s making a difference. If he can get these prosthetics working and out there, then at least he's helping people. Maybe if he's helping people, then he can feel a little less shitty about himself as a person and his poor life choices. So he works and he sleeps and sometimes he eats if he remembers or one of his friends shoves food in front of him. He swears JARVIS created a schedule for everyone to look in on him even if Tony is in the lab with him, since he's not any better at taking care of himself most of the time.

Everyone must be out of the tower when JARVIS pulls Bucky out of his thoughts

“Excuse me, Mr Barnes,” The AI begins. “But you have not eaten anything in the last six hours and you have been awake for almost eighteen, might I suggest you take a moment to eat something? The cafe downstairs has about five more minutes before the next batch of blueberry muffins come out of the oven.”

Bucky blinks a few times as he sits up on his stool, stretching his arms over his head. He assesses himself and realizes that he is pretty hungry. He has about four more hours of work he wants to complete before collapsing on his bed and passing out until he can't dream anymore. A coffee would make this a bit easier and those muffins are one of his favorite things.

“Thanks, JARVIS, I think I'll head down in a second.” After a moment of thought: “Steve isn't around is he?” He HATES that this is a thing he's always asking. He knows that it’s a cowardly thing to do. This hiding and slinking around, hiding from Steve. He's a grown man, he can deal with running into his ex…..whatever they were. Tomorrow he’ll quit asking about Steve’s location. 

“The Captain is not currently in the building,” JARVIS assures him. With a small sigh of relief, he stands up from his stool and heads to the elevator that will take him down to the lobby.

Bucky is sitting at a table next to the large wall of windows enjoying his muffin and latte. The sun is on its way down, the light starting to turn golden and it is just warm enough to be comfortable. The combination of his long day, a now full tummy and the sunshine is making him fuzzy and calm. It's a rare moment of peace in his currently tumultuous life. Everything is right with the world, until it all comes crashing down

“Bucky?” He hears his name called softly by an all too familiar voice. His entire body tenses and he looks up to see Steve standing a few feet away from his table, his own coffee clutched in his hand. He looks nervous and hopeful and scared all at the same time. His shoulders rounded and head slightly lowered, as if trying to make himself look smaller, which is always comedic since the man is 6’2” and 215 pounds of patriotic fury. There is nothing small or contained about him anymore. Bucky suspects even when he was a wisp of a thing he took up space. 

Eyes wide, he reminds himself that he is a grown man and that the two of them can deal with this like the adults they are. They are in a public space and need to behave accordingly. Of course, on the other hand, they are both a bit dramatic so who is he kidding. 

“Steve. Hi. I, uh, was just heading back to the lab, you can have the table if you need it.” He stands quickly and almost knocks over the remainder of his coffee in the rush.

“Buck, I just,” he hesitates. “Can we talk? I just wanted to say a few things, try to explain.”

Bucky groans a little, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don't think there's anything to talk about, Steve.” He takes a step forward to move around the taller man. “You withheld information from me. You lied-” Just as he's about to expound on that thought, the lobby explodes. Chunks of marble flooring, granite and concrete thrown with maximum force, glass flying through the air. Bucky thinks the ceiling has collapsed on him as he's thrown to the floor, the wind partially knocked out of him. When he opens his eyes, he realizes it's just Steve curled on top of him, protecting him from the debris. Coughing from the dust in the air, he pushes at his human shield.

“Steve? STEVE!” The other man groans and shifts his weight so that he is no longer crushing Bucky “Are you ok? You’ve got to get off me, I cant breath.” Steve shifts again so that Bucky is able to wriggle out from under him. 

Steve manages to get to his hands and knees, allowing bucky to crawl backwards out from under him and shaking his head to send concrete dust and debri tumbling from his hair. 

“Ugh, what the hell,” Steve coughs and lifts his head just in time for another blast to send more of the building into the air. As the dust settles a figure slowly materializes . Standing in the middle of the lobby, looking mighty pleased with himself, is a man. Dressed in black tac gear and what appears to be hockey pads, a full face mask and a white X painted on his chest. Steve squints at the guys get up and wonders if he's actually seeing the wires snaking out from under the chest plate or if the cloudy air is playing tricks on his eyes. 

Great, thinks Steve, that's all they need, a wannabe villain with a suicide vest.

The man looks around and when he spots Steve rising from the rubble his eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles under the mask. 

“Captain America, just the man I was looking for.” The voice carrying across the distance is muffled and raspy, like the speaker smokes six packs a day. He stalks across the disheveled lobby and stops in front of Steve as Bucky scuries towards the elevators to hide behind what's left of a pillar. 

Steve takes a deep breath and crosses his arms across his chest. Standing up straight and putting on his Cap-is-unimpressed face.

“And what is it that I can help you with? I was in the middle of an important conversation.” His eyebrows climbing his forehead, waiting for an explanation.

The masked villain lets out a gravelly laugh. 

“Oh Cap,” he tutts. “I'm here to kill you of course, to make you pay for what you took from me, for what you made me become.” He throws his hands out to his sides, the metal contraptions surrounding his hands and winding up his forearms calibrating. “I'm here to make you SUFFER.” 

With that he launches himself at the blonde. Blow after enhanced blow. It's not the hardest thing for Steve to deflect the punches and land a few of his own, neither man flagging. They dance around the ruined lobby trading blows. Bucky is still keeping out of sight behind the decimated pillar when the elevator behind him opens silently. Bucky turns to look when he hears the soft woosh just in time to see the tiny robot that cleans their floors pushing Steve's shield towards him. A smile spreads across his face, now the real fight can begin. He pushes himself up out of the crouch he was tucked into and quickly grabs the shield from the little robot with a word of thanks and turns back to the fight. The other two men are still at it, throwing punches faster than the average human. Bucky takes in the scene before him and times his entrance accordingly. With a deep breath he runs across towards them, planting his feet on a large chunk of ceiling and launching himself into the air, just as Steve lands a solid punch sending the other man skidding backwards, he lets the shield fly.

“CAP!” He yells, shield zinging through the air, bouncing off the attacker’s chest and ricocheting perfectly into Steve’s waiting hand. Multiple emotions flash across Steve’s face as he flips the shield in his hands, Bucky landing on the run and skidding to a stop at his side.

“Buck, no, what are you doing out here?” He barks out, a bit harsher than he meant to, but he is worried. This guy isn't some two-bit villian, he's trained and well-equipped. The last thing he wants is for the younger man to get hurt.

“I figured you needed a little help, and before you can say anything,” he cuts off any argument Steve can make with quick movement of his hand. “I know what I’m doing. I've been training with you guys for awhile now so I can hold my own.” Steve’s frown just deepens and with a roll of his eyes Bucky continues: “Stop looking at me like that and let's just deal with this asshat, ok? I've got a project I need to get back to and don’t think I’m not still mad at you!” He yelps as Steve grabs him by the arm and pulls him towards him, bringing up the shield just in time to block a blow from the asshat in question’s overclocked gauntlet.

“Awww, how touching,” he cooes.”You think that you can take me out together. Well, let me tell you, nothing and no one can defeat me, CROSSBONES!” Both men scrunch up their face and look at each other mouthing “Crossbones?”, a matching eyeroll and they're off. Now that Steve has his shield the real fight can begin. The two men taking turns throwing the shield, having it bounce off of their target, slamming their fists into vulnerable body parts. Finally one good shield toss to the mask knocks the thing off all together. The man underneath is a sight. Half of his face covered in severe burns, the side of his mouth pulled up in a permanent sneer. 

“BROCK?!?” Bucky, shocked and wide eyed, yells in disbelief.

What. The. Fuck.

“Hey Buck, didn't really recognize you there. Looking good though.”

After a moment of gaping Bucky regains his powers of speech, going from shocked to angry.

“You fucking asshole, you gave me a fake number!” The other man just shrugs.

“Sorry man, no hard feelings. I'm more of a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. Can’t let a bit of dick get in the way of world domination, ya know?” It’s that moment that Steve finally catches up to the current conversation.

“Hold up.” He shakes his head and looks at both of them in turn. “THIS is dick pic Brock?! You fucked then tried to send a picture of your junk to a high ranking HYDRA sleeper agent?!” His voice raising an octave on the last part.

“Well, in my defense, I didn’t know that's who he was at the time.” Bucky replies a bit defensively, then throws his hands in the air. “Liars. All men are fucking liars.” With that he grabs the shield from Steve and smashes the star straight into Rumlow’s nose, hearing a satisfying crunch, he pulls back and slams the side into his gut, doubling the man in half and brings his knee up, straight in the face, effectively knocking him flat on his back, groaning while trying to catch his breath through a broken nose. He gives him a hard kick to side for good measure and thrusts the shield into Steve’s chest, making the other man grunt on a sharp exhale and stomps off towards the elevator. 

He's halfway across the lobby when Rumlow rolls to his side weakly gripping a black cylinder. Where he pulled a miniature grenade launcher from is anyone's guess. Steve spots it just as he pulls the trigger, yelling Bucky's name as he watches it fly through the air trailing smoke and spits of flame. Bucky doesn't even turn, fed up with the days events piled on top of everything he was dealing with before. Just raises his left hand to hold up his middle finger as the explosive meets the pillar next to his head. 

Everything happens in slow motion. The pillar crumples, no longer supporting the ceiling, it caves. Chunks of concrete and plaster raining down on the unsuspecting man. Metal girders bent and charred hanging from what's left of the floor above. Steve drops his shield and runs to the pile of rubble that is stacked where Bucky once stood. 

As Steve starts to frantically toss chunks of building across the room the doors to the elevator open and Tony, Natasha and Clint come bursting out in full uniform, ready for a fight. Their eyes bouncing between Steve's desperate search and Rumlow trying to stand and make a hasty retreat. 

Not sure what is happening or where start Tony decides a joke is in order.

“Well,” he begins looks like we missed all the fun. Where's Buckaroo? Jarvis said you two were down here together?"

Steve lets out what might be choked back a sob.

"Oh fuck." Tony's eyes go wide and he starts barking orders "Romanoff, deal with Dumbbones over there, Clint we'll help Steve move all this concrete. J, my man, see if Bruce is feeling up to getting the Hulk out to help us get this moving."

Everyone has their mission now, faces set in tight lines. The tears that Steve couldn't manage to hold back leak down hair face. Finally after the Hulk shows up to move the last big chunk of ceiling off of Bucky, they find him still breathing if unconscious. Which is for the better, seeing as while most of him was trapped in a small cave, his left arm hadn't been so lucky. A team of nurses with a gurney appear just then to whisk him away to the med floor. 

It only takes a few minutes and the lobby is silent but for the snorting and sniffling of Rumlow trying to breath while Natasha has his arms secured behind his back and foot braced between his shoulder blades. Steve's on his knees in the middle of the rubble staring at the elevator doors, not sure what to do next. Looking at each other for guidance, the other Avengers are also at a loss. Finally Clint steps forward to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey man, Stark’s med team is the best there is. I'm sure he'll be fine. Let's go get you cleaned up so you can be there when he wakes, ok?" Steve just nods and stands, letting the other man steer his to a different set of elevators.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	10. Chapter 10

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound of machines beeping and whirring in the background are the first thing he hears. Next is the soft murmur of voices. 

“All stats look normal, he's stable…..”

“....keep an eye on things until he wakes.”

“Need to make sure there’s no sepsis….”

Sepsis, yeah, that would be bad, he thinks as he sinks back under, the drugs lulling him back into a dreamless sleep.

He is in and out of consciousness for an unidentifiable amount of time. It could have been hours or days. Maybe he's been out for weeks, there's no way for him to know. 

When he does come to, he's still a little warm and fuzzy from the morphine in his system. The first thing he sees is Steve, asleep, tucked into the chair next to his bed. Arms crossed over his chest, dark smudges under his eyes. A volley of emotions runs through him: relief, fondness, the urge to brush a stray lock of hair off his forehead. After working through the initial onslaught the familiar feelings of hurt, anger and sadness wash over him. He remembers their conversation before the explosion, the days since he found out that Steve was hiding something important from him. That the man he was falling in love with had been less than honest with him. 

With a heavy sigh, he closes his eyes and decides he needs a little more sleep before he can deal with the heavy realities that are his life at the moment. 

The next time he wakes to the sound of a pencil scratching across paper. He doesn't even have the energy to open his eyes this time. He just listens to the sounds of graphite marking parchment. The tiny shushes of shading and the long hisses of lengthy lines. It's a comforting sound, one he had gotten used to in what seems like a lifetime ago now. When they had spent time in companionable silence. Steve would sketch while Bucky was working on his laptop on the couch or while waiting for him to finish up in the lab. Soon enough he's drifting back under with the feeling of warmth suffusing his body. 

Once more, he surfaces from his healing slumber. This time he hears voices arguing in hushed tones. It takes him a moment to focus enough to understand what it is they are saying. He does, however, recognize Tony and Steves voices.

“You can’t just come in here and throw this at him.” He hears Steve whisper harshly. “He hasn’t even woken up enough to notice.”

“This is everything he’s working for right now, he’ll be thrilled to say yes,” Tony throws back. “He’ll be freaking ecstatic to try this out first hand.”

“Tony, there is no way he’s going to be ECSTATIC about losing his-” Steve stops himself and brings his hands up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Still too uncoordinated and loopy to let them know he can hear them, he thinks:

“Maybe if someone talked to Bucky about what was happening then Bucky could make an educated decision on what Bucky should be ecstatic about.”

He finally manages to open his eyes enough to see the two men at the foot of his bed. Steve is still wearing the clothes he remembers seeing him in last time he was awake enough to notice. He's not sure if that means the time between wakings has been minimal or that Steve just hasn't left to change in God knows how long. He's fairly certain it would be the latter, the stubborn asshole. 

That seems to be as much brain power as his body can spare at the moment. His eyes fall closed once more and he’s asleep before the men can begin to squabble again. 

Finally, Bucky wakes up for good, clear headed and thirsty as fuck. He’s working on opening his eyes as he listens to someone muttering to themselves.

"We just need to get the neural interface to talk to the primary motor cortex, then we can get these babies to…" He pinches the glowing diagram, waves his fingers around and rearranges some wavy weaving lines around a diagram of a brain. "There, better, see if Strange can find fault with that. Egotistical blowhard….." 

Bucky finally has his eyes open most of the way and is able to take in a disheveled looking Tony who is sitting in Steve's chair. He's no longer wearing his Iron Man suit, just a faded AC/DC shirt and ripped jeans with grease stains. 

Bucky lets out a hoarse, raspy chuckle at the way Stark’s face is scrunched up in distaste at the thought of having to talk to Stephen Strange. The mystical arts sorcerer supreme is also the neurosurgeon they've been consulting with on the prosthetics project. 

The other man's head snaps towards the bed, his annoyed face quickly stretching ina smile. He quickly waves his hand through the hologram to dismiss the projection as he grabs a cup of water on the table, leaning forward to let Bucky sip from the straw. Tony's not much a of a caregiver but can manage when it's someone he genuinely cares about. Both men will just never speak of this to anyone outside of the room, or to each other, ever.

"So Bucket, you gave us quite a scare there. I know you and Cap are a bit on the dramatic side but burying yourself alive seems a bit drastic."

Bucky just rolls his eyes and tries to lever himself up into a sitting position only to almost careen off the left side of the bed. Tony is there in an instant, mouth frowning, gentle hands firmly gripping his shoulders. A bewildered look settles itself on Bucky's face as his eyes snap to his left side, were his arm used to be. Tony's grip has tugged the hospital gown down off of his left shoulder, exposing the space where his limb no longer was. He takes in the bandage that wraps his left shoulder, a few traces of his tattoo left to poke out from the white gauze. The space where his bicep was once attached to the rest of his body is empty. 

In his mind he tries to lift his hand to his face. His brain feels the movement but his eyes can see the truth. There is nothing there. In the space where his left arm was is only air. 

"I'm….Tony..." His voice is thick, fightin to swallow back the bile trying to push its way up his throat. "Where's my arm?" His eyes big and distressed as he looks at the older man. 

“Bucky,” he begins, voice soft. “That asshole was hiding a mini grenade launcher or something, by the time we realized…..the ceiling caved. You were trapped. We got you out as fast as we could but…I’m sorry, I'm so sorry…” He trails into silence.

Bucky takes a deep shaky breath and shakes his head from side to side, eyes focused on the space where his limb should be. His arm is gone. He doesn't say anything, just keeps staring at the empty spot, bobbing his head in disbelieving acceptance. 

Tony clears his throat. “Well, there are some options…” He begins, but before he can open his mouth to continue, Bucky snaps out of his reverie.

“The arm,” he whispers, his brain wheels turning now, not with despair and melancholy but with ideas, and hope. A small smile creeps onto his lips. “Well, we were just saying it's almost ready for human testing.”

Tony lets out a woop and claps his hands together. “I'll get everything rolling, you get busy healing and we’ll work out the details later.” He gives Bucky's shoulder a squeeze. “This is going to be amazing, Kid. We’re going to break barriers and you’ll be better than new. I mean, it was originally my tech, can't get any better than that.” With a wink, he hustles out of the room, his brain already ahead of him and down in his lab.

He doesn't even hear the door open back up as the nurse comes in to check his vitals for the millionth time. He’s too deep in thought, running through the last tweaks he still needs to make on the prototype arm that is sitting on his workbench in the lab.

Only whenthe nurse has left again and Bucky is alone with his thoughts, does he notice the get well card on the side table. He reaches across his body with his remaining arm, which he tries ridiculously hard not to think about, and plucks it from where it's propped up. He laughs when he sees the drawing on the front.

A hand-drawn cartoon penis is standing there, looking very sorry with his head bowed and a hat held between his hands. His eyes big and round like a puppy with tears just beginning to build along the bottom. The words ‘I'm sorry, get well soon’ are printed in neat lettering above the drawing. 

Bucky snorts and the corners of his mouth turn up in a small smile. He may be mad at the son of a bitch, but he still knows how to make him smile. He flips open the card with his thumb and tries not to think about how he only has one hand to work with now. On the inside is a short message:

Bucky,  
I am so sorry I didn't say anything sooner. I am sorry that all this happened and I couldn't save you. If we could trade places I absolutely would. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, I know I fucked up. I just wanted to let you know I miss you and wish I had done things differently. I hope you heal up soon and that maybe eventually we can be friends again.

Steve

Bucky closes the card and sighs, dropping his head back into the pillow. With a roll of his eyes he thinks to himself, of course he'll forgive Steve. He still needs some time to sort out his feelings but he knows he can't stay mad at him. The truth is, he misses Steve too. Him neglecting to tell Bucky that he knew who he was aside, the man had never been anything but truthful and kind and sweet and funny and…..amazing.

So he would forgive him, in time, but he was going to make the man WORK for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
> 
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> [tumblr](http://blondie-bluue.tumblr.com)  
>    
> and Lasenby at
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>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


	11. Chapter 11

After the fight with Tony about Bucky's arm, Steve had finally gone back up to his floor to shower and change. It had been three days since the explosion and he had spent that time by his friend’s bedside. Tony had come in and insisted that he go take care of himself. He knew that Bucky would be perfectly fine without him there. He just wasn't sure what to do with HIMSELF. It had been his fault Bucky was even there in the first place. He should have protected him. He should have made sure that Rumlow was subdued and not able to reach for that damn grenade launcher. Had he been just a little faster, he would have been able to keep him out of that pile of rubble. If it weren't for his inadequacies, Bucky would still have his arm. 

The elevator opens onto his floor and Natasha is sitting on his couch. Steve just rolls his eyes and toes off his shoes by the door, then throws himself down onto the couch next to her, running his hands through his hair and letting out a super soldier sized sigh. 

Natasha just tosses a file into his lap. 

“I figured you might need a distraction,” she says. Steve opens the file with skeptical curiosity. It might be a good idea to keep occupied. Staring at Bucky while he fades in and out of sleep is just winding him up more, letting his brain spiral into all the things he should have done differently. To be honest, it's also a little creepy. 

The file has information on Crossbones and the HYDRA cell he's been working with, AIM, who manufactured the tiny rocket launcher, and the arms dealer that sold him the mechanical gauntlets he was wearing.

“Welp, look like im going to be a little busy for the next month or so,” Steve says as he turns to smile at Natasha. Her shark-like grin beaming back at him

“I thought you would say that, wheels up in 30. Quinjet is prepping on the roof.” With that she stands and walks to the elevator, tossing a sloppy salute back at him as the doors close.

Steve sets the file aside and stands, feeling lighter. He has a purpose now. He is going to make everyone involved in Bucky’s pain pay for their transgressions. This is a much better use of his time. He couldn't stop it from happening, but he sure as shit can make them regret their life choices. 

He showers quickly and changes into his stealth suit before he heads to the roof. He's going to find every last one of these dickbags while Bucky is recovering. Now that he has a goal, he can do this all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
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>    
> and Lasenby at
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>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


	12. Chapter 12

It takes about three weeks for Bucky to heal enough to be discharged from the medical floor. Natasha brings him a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt so that he doesn't have to walk out wearing a spare pair of nurses scrubs.

After the third time he almost gives himself whiplash looking towards the door as it opens, she rolls her eyes and tells him:

"You can calm down. He's not here. He's on a mission in Germany." Bucky battles with dueling emotions. He's the tiniest bit sad that Steve won't be there to witness his release back into the wild, but mostly he's glad that he doesn't have to deal with well meaning attempts to help and his puppy dog eyes pleading forgiveness. 

Bucky still has his penis apology card tucked away. The fold marks worn from his opening and closing it so many times. He can recite the message in the back by memory now. 

He's not sure he'll ever be ready for the conversation he knows he has to have with him. So he'll take any reprieve he can get.

With a deep breath, he pushes those thoughts aside and turns his best smile onto his friend. She knows he is faking but is nice enough to play along. 

"What do you say we blow this popsicle stand?" He hops off the bed and only wobbles a little bit. He's still getting used to how being minus an arm throws off his balance. He rights himself and holds his elbow out to Natasha as if they were going for an evening stroll. She shakes her head and threads her arm through his. She knows he's hiding the fact that he still needs a little help to keep from swaying as he walks, but let's him have the dignity of the rouse. 

They saunter out of the room, Bucky nodding and saying his farewells to the nursing staff. He's a charming bastard, that's for sure. When they reach the elevator and step inside, he releases Natasha's arm so he can throw a jaunty salute at the few people standing in the hall. The doors close and he leans against the cool steel of the back wall, bracing himself on the handrail pressing into his backside. 

"To the lab, JARVIS my good man." He's ready to get started on the changes he has been compiling for the last few weeks. He has a whole notebook full of equations and diagrams and partial thoughts tucked away in the duffel Natahsa brought his clothes in. 

The elevator begins to move and the closer they get to the lab, the bigger the smile on Bucky's face becomes. He never thought he would be the one testing his project but now that he is, he's just a bit excited. Even if the circumstances which led to him being the first human test subject weren't what he would call ideal, he's still nerdy enough to be enthusiastic about the concept. 

When the doors slide open to reveal the lab, Bucky can't help but laugh. Stark had decorated his work area with streamers and balloons. A giant WELCOME BACK banner hanging above it all. Stark comes striding out from a side room, arms flung wide, trailing behind him is Dum-E. A party hat is strapped to the top of his pinchers. Tony envelopes him in a big hug as the robot chirps and twirls behind him.

"Glad you're back, kid. You ready to make waves, shake up the prosthetic world, go where no man has gone before? You're going to change the game, Buckster, one nanotechnology limb at a time.” He claps the younger man on the shoulder a few times and turns back to his own workbench. 

He shoots a look over at Natahsha who is still standing by the elevator with a smirk on her face. 

"Go get ‘em slugger," she says as she steps back and the doors slide open, giving him a wink before she's hidden from sight. 

He just chuckles and pulls his notebook out of the duffle bag. Turning back towards the piles of intricate metal pieces and circuitry he smiles to himself and gets to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
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>    
> and Lasenby at
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>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


	13. Chapter 13

Steve is exhausted. 

He's covered in the fallout of the fight. Other people's blood splattered on his uniform. The smoke and dust of burning buildings clinging to his hair. All he wants to do is get inside and take a shower and sleep for a few days. Maybe a week. 

He trudges off of the quinjet and decides to take the stairs down. It's only a few floors but if he stops moving he's not sure he can get himself back in gear. 

When he comes out of the stairwell onto his floor, there is music playing. He is on instant alert even if his brain is a little slow on the uptake. He lowers the shield he had unconsciously pulled from his back harness as he quietly steps through the living room towards the kitchen where the sounds of another person can be heard. If his brain had been firing on all cylinders it wouldn't have taken him so long to remember that only the people who he had granted access would be able to enter his apartment. Even still, he's more surprised to see Bucky standing at the stove than if it had been Pierce or Red Skull. 

"Bucky?" Steve says. Bucky jumps a little and clutches his chest with his new metal hand. Steve can't take his eyes off it.

"Jesus fuck, Rogers. You scared the shit out of me. Why are you sneaking around like that?" He sets the spoon he was stirring with aside and leans his hip against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He's sporting a wary look as he takes in Steve's disheveled appearance. "You're a mess. Go take a shower while I finish up this pasta. I'm sure you're starving." He turns back to the stove to dump three packages of spaghetti into the restaurant-sized pot of boiling water. 

Steve's not sure if he fell asleep on the jet ride home or if this is real. The domesticity of it all throws him for a loop. His mouth opens and closes a few times like a gaping fish, not sure of what he wanted to say but finally snaps it shut and nods. He turns on his heel and heads for his oversized shower to wash away the grit and grime of his last fight. 

He peels off the top of his uniform on the way into his bathroom, dropping it on the floor. He'll put it into the proper hamper later. Right now he's focused on trying to step out of his pants without falling over and cracking his skull open. Once he manages to get himself naked and into the hottest shower he can stand, he takes a moment to appreciate the water sluicing over his shoulders and down his back. Rivers of muddy red-black water runningdown his legs to swirl about his feel, rushing down the drain. 

He has to wash his hair three times before the water runs clean. He’s lost track of how many times he had to rinse his loofah and body. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. 

By the time he's clean, skin a bright pink from the scrubbing and smelling of vanilla, his stomach begins to growl. Each protestation louder than the last.

"All right, all right," he mutters, heading out of the steamy room. He throws on a pair of sweats and a shirt with a faded screen print of his shield on it. Tony had thought himself so clever when he gave the shirts to everyone for Christmas. Each with their own superhero symbol on it. Steve would never tell him how much he loves it, but the thing really is very soft. 

He pads barefoot back out to the kitchen while running a towel over his hair. When he arrives, he sees that Bucky has finished plating the pasta and settwo spaces at the table. He looks into the kitchen just in time to see him pulling a sheet of garlic bread out of the oven with his metal hand. 

Steve can't take his eyes off the arm. Its sleek silver plates overlapping and moving like the muscles in his real arm. At the top of his shoulder, where the metal meets skin, are the last remaining pieces of his tattoo. The metal blending seamlessly with his flesh and the ink. It's a painful reminder for Steve that the metal he sees isn't some sort of sleeve to be worn. It isn't just part of a greater whole like Tony’s suit. It is now Bucky's left arm. Steve has to look away before he spirals down into the feelings of helplessness and anger. All the if onlys of that day. If only he had been paying more attention to Rumlow. If only he had been able to get to him faster. If only he had had the courage to tell him the truth sooner, then they wouldn't have even been down there having that fight. He shakes his head to chase the thoughts away and clears his throat and takes a step forward.

“This looks amazing, Buck, you didn't have to do this.” His voice is softly wavering a bit as he takes a seat. Bucky walks over with the garlic bread and sets it on the table and sits down on the opposite side of the table. 

“I know how hungry you usually are when you come back from a mission.” He shrugs and picks up his fork. “Now dig in. This is my family pasta sauce recipe, I took the time to make it for you and you're gonna like it.” Steve raises an eyebrow as he twirls his fork in the saucy strands.

“A family recipe, huh. Must be special, thank you for spending the time on me.” He stuffs a forkful of pasta in to his mouth and moans a little, closing his eyes. 

“Don't be getting too sappy on me, by family recipe I mean adding brown sausage to a jar of Prego.” Bucky grumbles before taking another bite of his pasta. Steve just laughs and nothing more is said until Steve is halfway done with his second serving. 

Bucky pushes his plate to the side and clasps his hands together in front of his mouth. He just watches Steve, thoughts obviously cranking through his head. Steve just keeps eating, filling the massive void that is his stomach. 

Finally Bucky takes a deep breath: “Steve, why didn't you say anything when you figured out it was me?” The question is asked at such a low volume that had anything else been going on in the room, it would have been lost. Steve stops chewing and sets his fork down. 

“I….I’m not sure.” He looks to the side without really seeing. Searching his thoughts to come up with the best way to explain what he had been thinking. He's not even sure he can figure it out. Wasn't that the thing, he hadn't been thinking?

“At first I wasn't sure what to say. Do I just walk up to you and say ‘hey kid, I think you've been sending me pictures of your dick the last few months.’ I figured it wouldn't hurt to wait until I knew what to say. Then we just kept sending them and I got to know you better as a person. I didn't want to ruin that. I didn't want you to realize that you had been exchanging penis pictures with Captain America and freak out. That's what happens Bucky, people see me and the first thing they think of is Cap. Somehow, when I was in the ice, everyone decided I was some paragon of virtue. That Cap is all morals and righteousness.” He huffs out a sad laugh. “I was a coward. I was selfish. I just wanted to hold onto whatever it was that we had. I was afraid of losing you, both versions of you, that I had come to know.” 

Bucky had been silent during Steves explanation. Taking it all in and trying to process what he was hearing. He could understand what Steve was saying. He would have been afraid to lose the friendship they had grown too. He still was. That still didn't give him the right to withhold the information, taking his decision to continue or end the friendship out of his hands.

“I'm a big boy, Stevie, I can handle the truth, I can make my own decisions,” Bucky says. “I probably would have been freaked out at first. Finding out you’ve been sending pictures of your dick to Captain America would freak anyone out. I trusted you, Steve. Even if you had said something after a few weeks, I wouldn't have been that mad. I might have hidden in the nearest supply closet for awhile, sure, but it wouldn't have ended us. You keeping this from me though, the biggest problem with that was that it took away my ability to choose whether or not this was something I wanted to be involved in. You were making choices for me and I just cant handle that.” He looks at Steve, making sure to hold the man's gaze. "I need you to trust in me as much as I trust in you.” 

With that last thought lingering between them, Bucky picks up his plate and heads to the kitchen.

“Finish your dinner, you need to eat more.” He throws over his shoulder. 

While Bucky goes about cleaning the dinner dishes, Steve mechanically eats the rest of his pasta, mulling over what he had just heard. He's not sure he can be any more sorry or feel any lower than he already does. He didn't mean to take away Bucky's choices in the matter, he was definitely being selfish in not wanting to lose him. But what good was having someone who wasn't fully choosing to be there?

Steve looks down at his empty plate and stands to take it into the kitchen. Bucky is just finishing up washing the last pot when he walks in. He sets the clean pot down on the counter and turns to take Steve’s plate from him, setting it aside in the sink. Leaning back against the sink, he crosses his arms over his chest and takes in Steve's hang dog expression. 

“Steve, look at me.” Steve lifts his head, eyes full of sorry and regret. Bucky takes a deep breath “I would have still chosen to be your friend, I would still have chosen to send you pictures of my junk.” He huffs out a laugh at the look of surprise on the other man's face. “You're a punk and an asshole, but you MY punky asshole.” He opens his arms and motionsfor Steve to come to him, winding his big arms around Bucky's waist, he buries his face into his neck. 

“If I wasn't already half in love with you I'm not sure I would be able to forgive you,” he murmurs into Steve’s hair. Steve’s arms tighten and his body goes stiff, slowly he pulls away, not releasing Bucky form his hold. 

“You really feel that way?” Steve whispers, awe in his voice. Bucky just nods and smiles. Steves lips curve to match and then he's leaning in, briefly touching his smiling mouth to Bucky’s. A soft caress, unsure of how welcome he is in that moment. 

Bucky answers that question for him by placing a hand on his neck and firmly reeling him in. The kiss is deep and hot and full of emotion. The release of pent up passion and anger and acceptance. 

They make out against the counter for what seems like forever but in reality isn't quite that long. 

“I’m sorry Buck, I promise I’ll never keep anything from you again.” He presses his forehead to the other man’s as he runs his hands up and down his back. “What I’d really like to do right now...” He starts to kiss his way down Bucky's neck. “Is show you how sorry I am-” A quick bite to his ear has him inhaling sharply. “To really let you know how much I appreciate you.”

Bucky tilts his head to the side so Steve can have easier access to his neck. The larger man just continues to work his way down, hands sneaking under the hem of his shirt to rest on his hips. Steve drops to his knees and nuzzles at Bucky's crotch, he's already mostly hard. 

“You have no idea how excited I am to see this thing in person.” 

Bucky is leaning back against the counter, trying to remember not to grip the edge too hard with his metal hand. He looks down at Steve as he noses at the bulge in front of his face. He’s beautiful, cheeks flushed and pupils half blown. He hadn't thought things would get this far tonight but now that he’s here there is no way he's going to object.

Steve’s hands move from his hips to the button on his jeans, he looks up at Bucky, silently asking for permission. He nods his head in answer and Steve deftly undoes his fly, reaching in to wrap a hand around Bucky's quickly filling cock. 

Both men groan at the contact. Steve licks his lips and he pulls Bucky out of his bants. Its thick head flushed just like in the photos. Only this is way better, cuz its right there in front of his face. He leans forward and gives the tip a little lick. A sharp inhale from Bucky encourages him to take him into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around and down the underside of the shaft. His hand resting around the base. He decides he's too impatient to tease tonight and takes the whole thing into his mouth at once. He pushes down as far as he can so that the head is nudging at the back of his throat. 

Bucky's flesh hand finds it way into Steve’s hair, he gives an easy tug and gets a responding moan. The vibration of which shoots down his cock to his crotch, he can already feel his orgasm building. Heat spreading out to fill his body.

Steve keeps going, bobbing his head and pumping his hand in time. He hollows his cheeks and looks up to see Bucky watching him. He looks wrecked. Breath coming in shallow pants, pupils dilated until all there is a thin grey line. He’s flushed and beginning to sweat. Steve couldn't have dreamed up a better vision, and oh how he's tried. 

He doubles his efforts, closing his eyes and increasing his speed. Bucky's hand tightens in his hair and he hears the dull chunkof the quartz countertop cracking and then he's coming, warm and hot down Steve’s throat. 

The bitter saltiness is a not unpleasant taste on his tongue. After he's spend, Bucky slowly sinks to the floor, puddling into Steve's lap. Their arms wrapped around each other and Steve's hands running up and down Bucky's back until he comes back to himself.

Bucky open his eyes and leans in to kiss the infuriating blonde. 

“That's one hell of a way to say your sorry, Rogers.” He smirks then looks down to see that Steve is still hard and straining in his sweats. He just raises an eyebrow and releases it from its confines.

“Well then, your drawings didn't do you any justice.” Steve’s laugh turns into a moan as he starts pumping his fist over his cock. He was already so close just from finally having Bucky in his mouth that it doesn't take long before he’s spilling over Bucky's hand and onto his pants.

Themen sit on the kitchen floor panting, neither one willing to move just yet. Finally, Steve kisses Bucky long and hard, plants his hands on Bucky's ass and stands up. Bucky squeaks in surprise and holds on tight. Steve just chuckles at him. 

“C’mon, my bed is way more comfortable than the floor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me at
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/Blondie_Bluue)  
> [tumblr](http://blondie-bluue.tumblr.com)  
>    
> and Lasenby at
> 
> [tumblr](https://lasenbyphoenix.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So i originally planned and epilogue but then was like naaahhhhhh. Then it started to bug me that i didn't so now i did. Just a fun little PWP. That's it, noting revolutionary. Just some explcitness. enjoy!

Steve is leaning against the bar, surveying the room. The usual gathering of avengers and friends scattered about the room. Tony had decided it was time for another team bonding night and had gone all out as was his typical M.O. The open bar was fully stocked and had a better assortment of top shelf alcohol than the best bars in the city. The waiters roaming the room were carrying trays laden with everyone's favorite finger foods. JARVIS was pumping a mix of hot 100 dance tunes and obscure 80s pop through the speakers, keeping his electronic ears open for anyone requesting something specific. The only thing missing was his boyfriend. 

Steve lets out a sigh as Natasha appears on the other side of the bar, shaking something in a silver drink mixer. 

“Ya know, you can still pretend to have fun with us until Bucky shows up.” she says with a teasing tilt to her lips. 

Steve just rolls his eyes and turns away from the room to face her, folding his arms over each other on the bar top. 

“I would, but you all are so terribly dull.” he drawls and tries to hide the laughter attempting to bubble up out of his chest. Natasha just raises an eyebrow as she pours the drink from the shaker into the glass, not a drop spilling onto the polished wood counter. 

“Where is your favorite cyborg anyway?” she asks, as if she doesn't already know.

“Down in the lab still. He said he was going to try to make it up here as soon as he finished whatever it was he's working on so he can protect me from Tony.” Steve takes a large swallow of his drink and grimaces at the glass. “Good lord woman, what did you put in here?” She just look at him and smirks as she moves to the other end of the bar to inflict her terrible bartending skills on Thor and Bruce. 

He just shakes his head and turns back to the room, his phone buzzing in his pants pocket. He pulls it out as Tony saunters up and leans on the bar next to him. 

“Hey Cap, is your better half still in the lab? I told him to quit fiddling around and make sure he gets his ass up here. Not everyone is worthy of being invited to one of my amazing parties, you know.” Steve just hums something that might have been agreement as he opens the text message that Bucky had just sent him and tries not to choke on his tongue when the image appears on his screen.

It's a picture of Bucks metal hand, smudged with grease, gripping his fully hard and slightly leaking cock. 

It takes a moment for Steve's brain to reboot and notice the message that popped up next.

🍆🍆🍆: I'm a bit too dirty for the party, maybe you should come make sure i get all the grease washed off 😘

Steve rereads the message a second time before locking his phone and turning to Tony. The older man hadn't even noticed that his companions attention had wandered and was now rambling on about some abstract idea about using pomeranians as attack dogs for the tower or something as equally absurd, Steve really had no idea.

He turns to place a hand on Tony's shoulder as he looks the man straight in the eye

“I'm sure that is an amazing plan and you will execute it with the utmost efficiency but I have to go. Right now. And help Bucky…..with…..something.” even he was unimpressed with that excuse.

“Cap, you are terrible at keeping secrets. How did you manage to fool Barnes for so long. Whatever,” he waves a hand through the air in a dismissive gesture “get out of here and go HELP Barnes with whatever wierd sex thing he has planned for you THAT I WANT TO KNOW NOTHING ABOUT. Go go go. I'm going to have to drink one of Nats godawful concoctions to try and bleach my brain of this conversation.” He makes a fake gagging noise, turns to the bar and waves furiously to get Natashas attention.

Steve smiles, head down and avoiding any eye contact, and hurries over to the elevator before he can be waylaid by any of his other friends. When he straightens up inside the elevator Sam catches his eye as the doors are closing and gives him an eye roll and a thumbs up. 

***

Steve swears the elevator is ascending a touch faster than normal and thinks, not for the first time, that it's a shame he can't send JARVIS a gift basket or something to show his appriciation for how many times the AI has been so good to him and the rest of the team. 

When he steps into his apartment he's greeted by a trail of Bucky's clothes leading through the living room, down the hall and into the master bedroom. Normally he'd be picking each piece up and grumbling all the way to the hamper. Now, however, he has other things on his mind that are much more important than scolding Bucky. 

When he makes it into the bedroom, the door to the master bath is ajar, tendrils of steam swirling around the door jam. He takes a deep breath and presses the heel of his palm to his throbbing cock. Blood had been steadily filling it since he received that picture message at the party. But the fact that his boyfriend was right behind that door, naked, finished the job. 

He finally steps up to the door and pushes it all the way open to see Bucky, fresh from the shower, drying his hair with a towel. 

A draft from outside the steamy room must have found its way in and made its way over to where he was standing, causing him to shiver and his skin prickle with goosebumps. 

Steve's heart almost stops when Bucky looks up and smiles at him

"Took you long enough." He drops the towel on the floor and saunters up to Steve, draping his arms over his shoulders, Steves hands come up to rest on Bucky's hips, keeping him steady "I managed to get myself all clean but wouldn't mind getting dirtied up again. If your interested, that is." Eyebrows climbing his forehead, as if he didn't already know what the answer would be. 

Steves pretends to think about it as his hands slide back to glide over the tops of Bucky's ass and down to grab two solid handfuls. 

“I don't know,” he teases “I'd hate to undo all that hard work. I assume you very thorough and made sure you were squeaky clean EVERYWHERE.” a knowing smile blossoms on his face while Bucky blushes slightly as he chews on his bottom lip and looks up through his lashes, he nods. Steves breath leaves him in one heavy gust. He bends his knees and lifts Bucky off the floor, Bucky's legs immediately wrapping around his strongman’s waist, tightening his grip on his shoulders as well. Steve turns and heads into their room, strides long and purposeful, not wasting a second, tossing Bucky as if he doesn't weigh more than a few pounds onto the bed. 

The mattress and frame only groans the slightest bit as he bounces a few times before settling. Lying back he stretches out and tucks his hands behind his head to watch Steve strip out of his clothes. It's a thing of beauty, to watch his muscles flex and bunch as he removes his clothes. The dexterity of his fingers as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, tossing it to the side. The way his shoulders bulge as he grips the back of his undershirt to pull it over his head, The way his forearms ripple while he works his belt and fly, pushing his pants and boxers down in one swift movement. His thighs as he steps out of said pants and kicks them across the room towards the hamper.

After he is fully naked he just stands at the foot of the bed to let Bucky look his fill. He knows he looks good, he's vain enough to admit it, and if he happens to flex his pecs in the way that has Bucky sucking in a sharp breath only to let it out on a breathy squeak then who can blame him? When he's done teasing he strides forward and plants a knee on the bed to begin climbing up Bucky's body until he is suspended above the other man, skin almost but not quite touching from chest to toes, forearms planted on either side of his head. He dips his head the last inch to take Bucky's lips with his own. The kiss starts out heated and escalates to feverish. The time for chaste pecks and lingering caresses is not now. Now is a time for fire and passion. Bucky presses his tongue to meet Steves, eager and ready. They spend just a few minutes working each other over before Steve breaks the kiss to trail his lips and tongue dow Bucky's chin and neck, sucking and biting on his way to his chest. Bucky's nipples are sensitive as all hell, so when Steve takes one between his teeth and bites the slightest bit his back arches off the bed and his hands fly to the blondes head, fingers twinning in the strands. 

Steve just smiles against Bucky's skin as he works his way down his chiseled abs. Nipping and biting just this side of painful, leaving red marks in his wake. When he finally reaches his thighs he sucks hickeys into them, making sure to avoid touching his cock that is, by now, red and achingly full. 

“Steve, if you don't get your goddamn mouth on me in the next 5 seconds…” Bucky manages to get our between shallow pants and gasps. Steve just smiles a little wider and nuzzles Bucks balls with the tip of his nose while running his hands up and down his legs.

“What are you gonna do, Buck? Im not sure that's the leverage you think it is.” he just chuckles and FINALLY runs the flat of his tongue up the bottom of Bucky's dick from root to tip, taking the whole thing into his mouth and down as far as he can.

He can't help but try to smirk around the girth in his mouth when Bucky throws his head back as he moans Steves name. He gets to work bobbing up and down, hollowing out his cheeks to get as much suction as he can, gripping the remainder that he can't fit into his mouth and working his hand up and down in time, the other hand occasionally stroking his own raging hard on to take some of the edge off. Seeing Bucky like this always manages to work him up something fierce. All splayed out and giving into the sensations Steve is creating for him. The noises he makes when Steve does something he particularly likes. The fact that Bucky lets him do these things with him is such a gift, he has to grip the base of his own erection tightly to keep from coming himself. 

It's about that time that Bucky tugs on his hair hard enough to pull him off. Steve looks up the expanse of torso laid out in front of him, lips swollen and glistening turned down in a ridiculous pout

“Hey, you gotta stop. I don't wanna go off too soon” he pants “wanna try out some of the new upgrades.” He smirks as he pulls his metal hand away from Steve's head and wiggles his fingers. Steve's eyes go wide.

“Is that what you were doing in the lab today? Adding sex toys to your arm? Bucky, thats a genuine Stark prototype meant to help disabled vets.” he tries to keep a stern look on his face and manages for a solid 10 seconds before his lips start to twitch and they are both laughing. 

Bucky recovers first, just barely, and pulls Steve up the bed before he flips him over so that he is seated on Steves lap, legs on either side of his hips. He slots his fingers in between Steve's and pushes their entwined hands above his head on the mattress, leaning in to rest their foreheads together. 

“You're such a shit, Rogers, you know that? I don't think anyone else in the world knows what an asshole Captain America actually is.” With that he tilts his chin down to kiss him once more. “ NOW, about the reason we’re here, test run.”

He goes back to kissing the other man senseless as he disentangles his left hand and reaches up under the pillow to pull out a bottle of lube. Steve whines a little when bucky takes back his other hand and slips off to the sides

“I know, I know, Sugar, but we have to get you ready if your going to ride my cock don't we.” he says as he slides his hand under Steve's right knee to prop it up then slides it down his thigh to take his flagging boner in his hand, giving it a few good strokes. “There, that's better, yeah? Just gotta get you all opened up, wet and ready for me.”

“Good fucking lord, the mouth on you” Steve gasps, one hand buried in his hair as he takes a few deep breaths to regain his composure. He won't beg, not this time. Bucky sees him gathering his resolve which makes his own that much stronger. He knows this game, the one where Steve pretends he's above begging. It just makes it even sweeter when he finally breaks and is all but crying to have Bucky inside him, to push him over the edge. 

“You love it, but I have a better use for it in just a minute.” Bucky pops the top on the lube bottle and pours a fair amount out onto his metal fingers, rubbing them together, spreading the slick around before reaching down between Steve's leg to run the slick digits over the space behind his balls and down to the tight furl of muscle, making Steve gasp at the cool touch. He had thought about installing a hater to make his metal hand match the temperature of his flesh and blood, but had decided he much preferred the way it gradually warmed as he worked Steve over. Pulling heat from his over warm skin until they matched. 

Bucky continued to rub circles around the edges of his hole, occasionally pressing against and then in, a little more each time until he had one entire finger working in and out. Steves other hand had found its way into bucky's hair and was lightly pushing him towards his cock. Bucky knew what he wanted, and would eventually get there, but the fun was making Steve wait. To reach that edge of desperation and then finally tug him back by giving him what it was he needed. 

As he started to tease a second finger at Steve's entrance he finally moved down his body so that his mouth was on level with Steves cock. He decided a bit more teasing was in order and would get just close enough that his breath would ghost over the tip and place tiny, barely there kitten licks to the shaft until finally Steve moaned his name in a combination of desperation and frustration. He smirked to himself as he took him all the way into his mouth at the same time he pressed two fingers into his body. 

With a gasp Steve was arching off the bed. The stretch and burn so good, everything he was looking for. Bucky continued to work his cock with his mouth and right hand at the same time as his metal fingers twisted and pumped until there three working in and out of his body. By now Steve was a sweaty, quivering mess, but Bucky had only just begun. 

He pressed his thumb to one of the plates in his palm and his fingers began to vibrate. He crooked me hem just right to find that one spot inside of him and Steve let out a shout of pure ecstasy. Bucky had to hold his hip with his other hand to keep him from bucking up into his mouth and attempting to choke him. His cries of “BUCK, BUCKY” only gre louder as the vibration and pressure had him racing towards the edge. Bucky was just able to pull back enough to catch Steve's release and swallowing it down as he let out a yell loud enough for everyone at the party to hear. 

Bucky gently sucked Steve through his orgasm as he removed his hand and shut off the vibration. He settled between the man's legs with his head on his chest until Steve came down from his high and back to him. 

“That's some upgrade there, Buck. A+. 10/10. Would fuck again.” he said, voice soft and a little dreamy as he ran his fingers through Bucky's hair. 

“Oh pal, did you think we were done? I was just waiting for you to regain consciousness. It's my turn now. You think you got another in you, old man?” Bucky taunted. Steve just looked down at him, no sign of fatigue in his face but determination in his eyes. 

“Who you calling and old man? I can do this all day.” With that Bucky sat back up on his knees and lifted Steves Legs over his shoulders, lining his cock up with Steve's loose hole, and began to press in. Even though he had just stretched him open he still felt so tight around Bucky, so hot. He slid all the way into the hilt and stopped, taking a moment to compose himself. He looked down at Steve sprawled below him, flushed all the way down to his waist, eyes closed. He was beautiful, Bucky couldn't believe he was so lucky. With that thought, he began to move his hips, setting a steady rhythm. Whenever Steve would start to breath a little heavier he would back off and try not to smirk as he whined and tried to pull Bucky back in with the legs still draped over him. 

“Bucky, Please, i need. PLEASE” he finally begged, clenching around him, making him groan. He was so close. He fell forward, bending Steve in half and started pounding with all his strength. 

“Touch yourself, Stevie. I wanna see you cum. I want to see you make a mess of yourself.” Steve's hand flew to his dick and began pumping furiously. Head thrown back, moaning with every breath. That sight was enough to bring him over the edge. With one last good thrust he gripped the tops of steves thighs and let out a savage curse. 

The feel of Bucky releasing inside of him was all Steve needed to push him that last little bit and he followed bucky into bliss. 

When they came they were pressed together, Steves come cooling and becoming tacky between them. 

“Well, that was definitely lab time well spent” Bucky said, face pressed to Steve's chest. Steves just chuckles and reaches for his phone on the nightstand.

“The fuck are you doing?’ Bucky asks when he sees Steve aiming the camera down their bodies. The screen aimed from Bucky's shoulders to show their torsos and his ass between Steve's legs. 

“Just adding to my hidden folder.” he shrugs. “Thought maybe I'd accidentally send it to Tony” 

Bucky makes a horrified face at that. “Could we please not show my post sex ass to my boss? I don't think anyone but you needs to see that.”

“You're right, it's all mine" With that Steve sits up a little and slaps said ass hard enough to have Bucky letting out a disgruntled yelp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to everyone who has read this and left comments and kudos or even just happy thoughts. i ope you all enjoyed my story of two silly boys and their penises. thank you thank you thank you
> 
> Come visit me at
> 
> [twitter.](https://twitter.com/Blondie_Bluue)  
> and  
> tumblr
> 
> Also check out my amazing artist  
> tumblr  
> and  
> Ao3
> 
> Also check out my amazing artist
> 
> https://lasenbyphoenix.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me at
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/Blondie_Bluue)  
> [tumblr](http://blondie-bluue.tumblr.com)  
>    
> and Lasenby at
> 
> [tumblr](https://lasenbyphoenix.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote)


End file.
